
fHE FATHER 



HENRY COPLEY GREENE 




ClassJilii^.S 15 
BookJEAfe^Fd 



Copyright N° 



9 OS 



COPYRIGHT DEPOSrr 



THE FATHER 



PERSONS OF THE PLAY 



John Watson 
Mrs. Watson 
Ralph 

Margaretta 
Elizabeth Wood 



A Capitalist 
His Wife 
Their Son 
Their Daughter 
A Singer 



Time : September ^ i8g6 

Place : Mr. Watso7i s house at Mount Desert 



THE 

FATH ER 

<I Bratna 

By 
HENRY COPLEY GREENE 

Author of 

''Pontius Pilate," ''Theophile,'' ''Plains and 
Uplands of France,' Etc., Etc. 



MCMV 

THE MONADNOCK PRESS 

NELSON, N. H. 



Copyright, 1904, by Henry Copley Greene 



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L-, Gopyr!t;nij;!!tiy | 
I GLISS /^(? XXf. ■-„ i 



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ACT I 



The Parlor. Doors left and right. In the center^ a table; onit^ around a simple but 
handsome lamp, magazines^ a novel or two^ larger books^ a portfolio^ and some em- 
broidery. Near the embroidery^ two chairs^ one standing askew. Against the right- 
hand wall and under a framed photograph of Lincoln.^ a stiff woode7i chair ; in the cor- 
ner further back^ an arm-chair. To the left of it, an open window., and nearer the 
middle a glass door, through both of which the darkening afterglow of sunset is seen. 
Over a corner fireplace to the left, on the brick mantelpiece, a vase of white roses and a 
photograph of Duse. Between them a cast of^'-La Femme Inconnue." 
Margaretta turns from the window and stands glancing quickly back and forth from 
the roses to the photographs, takes a photograph of Elizabeth from the portfolio on the 
table, sets it beside the photograph of Duse, and seats herself in the rocking-chair. 



Mrs. Watson Entering left 

Not yet, Margaretta. 

Margaretta 
Who, Momps.? 

Mrs. Watson 
Your father, dear. 

Margaretta 

Oh! Prob'ly he stopped in Bar Har- 
bor — for grub, you know. 

Mrs. Watson ^'"^^y 

"Grub".? 

II 



Seating herself at the table and 
taking up the embroidery 



To herself 



After a pause^ catching sight 
of the photograph on the table 



Margaretta 

Well, feedy Mommy darling, if you pre- 
fer it. 

Mrs. Watson 

I really prefer English. 

Margaretta 
But Momps — 

Mrs. Watson 
Listen ! 
No. 

Margaretta 

What are you celebrating ? 

Mrs. Watson 

I thought I heard the horn. I told 

Peters to blow it when he got to the 

turning, so that I could be at the door 

to meet your father. 

Is that Elizabeth ? 

Margaretta 
Sure. 

Mrs. Watson 

Why not have kept her with the rest 

of your friends ? 

Margaretta 

She's a celebrity; anyhow, she's going 
to be. And then, I want Pa to see her as 
soon as he arrives. So there she is — in 
his room, too, in case he goes right up. 

12 



Mrs. Watson 

But he '11 see her herself. 

Margaretta 

Will he ? She 's liable, you know, to 
take most as long coming from the beach 
as Dad from Idaho ! 

Mrs. Watson 

She does delight in it. 

Margaretta 

It 's perfect fizz for her, specially when 

Ralph 's along. 

Mrs. Watson 

And Ralph is * along" now.? 

Margaretta 
Sure. 

Mrs. Watson 

Margaretta, do you realize how you mur- 
der the Queen's English? 

Margaretta 

No worse than Elizabeth. 

Mrs. Watson 

That *s hardly true, dear, except when 

she makes fun of you. And even if 

it were true, she would be hardly a good 

model for you. 

Her mother could not give 

advantages; and in the last 

seems to have lived in really 



Putting aside the embroidery 



her your 
years she 



rath 



er 



After a pause 



With serious intensity 



Lighting the lamp 



13 



Bohemian surroundings . . .with singular 
sweetness, I admit. I am not condemn- 
ing her. She 's wonderfully kind to 
you, with her sunrise walks and her rid- 
ing and singing ; and then she has . . . 
well . . . the sort of genius that trans- 
figures almost impossible remarks. 

Margaretta 
And capers? 

Mrs. Watson 

Yes, actions, too. Yet, some of them, 
even lit up with her special exquisite- 
ness, I could hardly bear in my daughter. 

Margaretta 
Getting up Momps! 

Mrs. Watson 
Well, dear. 

Margaretta 

You wouldn 't mind *em, would you, in 

your d'diUghttv -in-law ? 

Mrs. Watson 

It hasn't come to that.? 

Margaretta 
But s'pose it had, 

Mrs. Watson 

Ralph would have told me. 

Margaretta 

On the arm of her mother's ^^ COUrse, dearest. 
chair 1 4 



And they 're not even engaged; at least, 
when they went out they were n't. I 
almost hope they are n't. They both 
seemed so ecstatically full of fears. J pause 

Was yours like that? 

Mrs. Watson 

Your father's love and mine? Yes, dear, 

for a while. 

Margaretta 
"A while"? 

Mrs. Watson 

You know we 're happy. 

Margaretta 

Um ! I do know you 're good. But 

sometimes, sometimes, you know, I do 

long to see you both, oh, just beautifully 

bad! 

Mrs. Watson 

That 's worse than . . . Elizabeth. 

Margaretta 
How you hate her! 

Mrs. Watson 

No, in a way I almost love her. And 
yet — . Margaretta, do you think she 
cares for Ralph? 

Margaretta 

It 's as plain as the nose on your dear 

sweet exquisite face ! 

15 



Looking her in the eyes 



Pf^ithout a smite 



Mrs. Watson 
And if it is ? 



Margaretta 

Dad won't object, will he? 

Mrs. Watson 
Half to herself His letter — 

Margaretta 
Interrupting He wrote? Tou wrote about her? 
Kissing her Oh, Mommy, dear, dear Mommy! 

Mrs. Watson 
Disengaging herself Yes, I wrotc, and I tried to be fair. 
But — 



Elizabeth^ outside^ is heard 
singing Sieglinde' s part of the 
final duet in Act I of the 
^^tValkure" 



Deprecatingly 
Mrs. Watson assents 

Elizabeth stops singing 



Margaretta 

Sh-sh! — 

Does n't that convince you ? 

Mrs. Watson 

Her voice is beautiful; but the whole 
subject — of the opera, I mean — makes 
me shiver. 

Margaretta 

Hm. The brother and sister business? 
Yes? 

But then, it 's just symbolic, you know. 
Love and Spring and all that. Listen. 
Momps, do nt trouble him with your 
prejudices! Don't! Don't! Think 
how he loves her! 
i6 



Comically serious 
Without a smile 



Mrs. Watson 

^w I prejudiced? Getting up slowly 

Even without her gift it would be a 
problem, Margaretta ; and with it, can 
a clash be avoided? Think of the con- 
ditions: Ralph settled, full of his prob- 
lems, absorbed in work — and she, a 
singer, mixed up with managers, feted, 
excited, elated . . . Why, not one pair 
in a thousand — 

Margaretta 

They 're one in ten thousand! 

Mrs. Watson 

Only character — character rooted in gen- 
erations of strength — nothing else could 
carry it through. Why, even your father 
with all his strength could hardly — 

Margaretta 

Have made a bang-up success of it ? 
P'raps 7iot! But Ralph's had the benefit 
oihis bringing up, and with Elizabeth — ! 

Mrs. Watson 

Yes. Perhaps — I hope so — perhaps 

my instincts are deceiving me. 

rl/LIZABETH Jt the glass door^ radiant 

Margaretta ! a bit chilled as she sees Mrs. 

I beg your pardon, Mrs. Watson. You Watson 
were talking ? 

17 



"Joyously 



Unconsciously 
Listening 

To Mrs. Watson 
To Elizabeth 



Under her breath 
Getting up 



Suddenly radiant 



A moment' s hesitation 



Margaretta 

Yes, of Ralph and the beastly poisons and 
acids and . . . and burners and scales and 
reactions, and things that he keeps up 
there ! And Momps thinks it 'd be better 
if he 'd loaf summers. I do n't, do you? 

Elizabeth 

No-o . . . that is, — yes! Why, 

why should he work while all the world's 

a heaven of silver and crimson and 

sea music ? 

Margaretta 

Do you s'pose Dad thinks Idaho 's like 

that? 

By the way, dearest, where is Ralph ? 

Elizabeth 

Ralph ? Oh, star-gazing somewhere. 

Margaretta 
Elizabeth ! 

Mrs. Watson 

Could you tell me a little more exactly, 
Miss Wood ? I should be sorry not to 
have him back when his father comes. 

Elizabeth 

Then, then, then, Mr. Watson has rit 
come yet ! Oh, I am glad. I do so want 
to see him, as soon as he arrives. 
I 've heard so much of him, Mrs. Wat- 
i8 



son, — carrying the flag at Cold Harbor, 
when he was only a boy ! and then later, 
his mines and the school for singers! 
and now, such bravery among the rioters! 
Is that he? 

Margaretta 

No; it can't be. Momps said Peters 
was to blow the horn when they got to 
the turning. Didn't you, Momps? 

Mrs. Watson 

Peters might have forgotten. 

Margaretta 
Peters never forgets. 

Elizabeth 

But perhaps we did n't hear it. 

Margaretta 
Oh, I think so. 
Biddies all off on a bat, Momps? 

Elizabeth 

Or perhaps Mr. Watson told Peters to 

keep still so that he could surprise you. 

Margaretta 
That 's it ! 

Mrs. Watson 
That might be it. 

Margaretta 

No: I'll go. — Dad, Dad, is it you? 

Dear old man! 

19 



Outside^ a ring at the front 
door 



Sarcastically 

The bell rings again 



Starting toward the right- 
hand door 

Also turning 



In the doorway 

Sitting down again at the table 

Still in the doorway 
In the hall^ outside 



Outside 



Outside 



Margaretta^ returning^ begins 
to open the telegram 



On the point of tossing it to 
her mother 



Elizabeth 
It must be he. 

Margaretta 
I should say not! 

Mrs. Watson 
No, it is n't he. 

Margaretta 

Thought you were Dad, Charley. 
Telegram ? For him ? Thanks. Office 
be open for an answer? 

Telegraph Boy 

All night, Miss Watson. 

Margaretta 
Good night. 

Telegraph Boy 
Good night. 

Mrs. Watson 

Margaretta ! What are you thinking of? 

Margaretta 

That's so; it's the same one they 

'phoned over, two hours ago, of course. 

Cipher, too. 

You have n '/ got the code r Truly-ruly ? 

So help you . . . Saint Patrick ? 

Mrs. Watson 
Certainly not. 
20 



Margaretta 
All right, then. 

Elizabeth 

Well, that wasn't Mr. Watson. But 

he '11 be here soon, I suppose. 

Mrs. Watson 

I think I '11 take this to his room. 

Yes, he said he 'd be here some time this 

evening. 

Elizabeth 
Margaretta. 
Oh, Margaretta ! Margaretta 

Margaretta 
Why, what is it? 

Elizabeth 

Dearest. 

Margaretta 

Then . . . you and Ralph .? 

Elizabeth 
Ralph and I ? 

Margaretta 
You are — ? 

Elizabeth 
Well? 

Margaretta 
Are you? 

21 



Tossing the telegram into her 
lap 



Getting up 
Absently 

She goes out to the right 

Her arms about her and her 
cheek against her forehead 

Drawing back a little^ she 
looks at her 

yi pause 



Elizabeth 

Kissing her softly and slowly Dearest ! 

Margaretta 
Holding her at arms-length Oh, I was off my trolley! when you 
and gazing into her face said Ralph was " star-gazing some- 

where." 

Elizabeth 
Were you, dear? 

Margaretta 

Yes, who wouldn't be? And then, why 
didn't you come back together^ arm in 
arm, you know, sort-er walkin'-down- 
the-aisle-wise ? 

Elizabeth 

I needed to be alone. 

Margaretta 

I don't understand. 

Elizabeth 
Do n't you? 

Margaretta 
No. 

Elizabeth 

Well, perhaps you can 't, dear. But if 
all your grays had been turned golden, 
if everything that was gold before had 
grown . . . celestial ; if your little body 
had been suddenly set quivering with a 
mystery that made your soul's song one 

12 



with the sea and stars — Margaretta, 
Margaretta, then you would understand. Apame 

Margaretta 
Yes, dear, if. 



Elizabeth 

Come. 

There, there — your soul's still such a 

funny little chrysalis ; but it soothes me 

to feel it, dear. 

Margaretta 
Really? 

Elizabeth 

And now I'm warm again. 

Margaretta 

Did Ma frizzle you? 

Elizabeth 

No. But it chilled me to see that her 
soul, you know, was still so much more 
frightened than she was trying not to be. 

Margaretta 

Elizabeth, can you pry into my insides 

like that? 

Elizabeth 

Sometimes. 

The way she felt scares me a little even 

now. I'm afraid she thinks — . Tell 

me, what does she think of me? 



Seating herself near the table. 
Margaretta., sitting in Eliza- 
beth's lap., nestles her head 
against her shoulder 



Sitting up., wide-eyed 



A pause 



Margaretta 
Getting up. Do you really want to know? 

Elizabeth 

Yes! 

Margaretta 
Really? 

Elizabeth 

Leaning forward^ intensely Yes, I say. 

Mrs. Watson 
Re-entering^ right \ forget, did you tell me where to look 
for him. Miss Wood? 

Elizabeth 
Rising Who, Mrs. Watson? 

Mrs. Watson 
My son. 

Elizabeth 

No. No, I can't have. I do n't know. 

We took different roads, you see. 

Mrs. Watson 
Really? 

Turning toward the door Very Well. 

Elizabeth 
Trying to^ bridge the chasm Won't you wait here for him? He's 

surely on his way. 

Mrs. Watson 

I'm afraid I should disturb you two. 

24 



between them 



Margaretta 

Not in the least, Mommy. 

Will she, dear? 

Elizabeth 

Do stay, Mrs. Watson. 

Margaretta 

As I was just going to say, Elizabeth, 

Mommy thinks . . . 

that you're charming. 

Elizabeth 
Really? 

Margaretta 

Yes. And . . . and exquisite. 

Elizabeth 
" Truly-ruly ? " 

Margaretta 

And . . . and ... a genius! 

Elizabeth 

Really? * 

Mrs. Watson 
Yes. 

Margaretta 

But then she thinks you 're — 

Elizabeth 
Well? 

Margaretta 
Unconventional ! 



Supremely 

To Elizabeth 

Mrs. IVatson sits down to her 
embroidery 



With roguish sternness 
Relenting 



With gentle humor 
A pause 



H 



Mrs. Watson 
Margaretta ! 

Elizabeth 

With a qm%-z.jcally birdlike Um ? 
«^^ Ayr 

Margaretta 
And — 

Elizabeth 
And what^ dear? 

Margaretta 
Freakish ! 

Mrs. Watson 
My child! 

Margaretta 
Maliciously Frcsh ! 

Mrs. Watson 

Be still, Margaretta ! 

Margaretta 
Light ! 

Elizabeth 

Standing up^ reproachfully ^^ • 

Margaretta 
As Mrs. Watson also gets up And in comparison with Ralph — 

Pompously who is **rooted in generations of 
strength " — rather weak. 

Elizabeth 
Perhaps so . . . yes . . . 
26 



Mrs. Watson 

Margaretta, you 're simply unpardonable. 
Miss Wood, if you will come to me a 
little later, I will explain what Marga- 
retta has so misstated. 

Elizabeth 

You are very kind, Mrs. Watson. 

Margaretta 

"Misstated ? " Understated — not stated 

at all! Great Gosh! with her whims 

and her notions about being " rooted in 

generations of strength," and then her 

letters to Dad, why we've just got to be 

candid. Anyhow I shall be, and if you 

are n't, why then you ay^e weak — very. 

Elizabeth. 

Elizabeth ! 

Elizabeth ! 

Dearest. Forgive me. 

I didnt mean to hurt. 

Elizabeth 

There's nothing to forgive, dear; it's 

true, I am weak. 

Margaretta 

But — but you won '/ be, dear 1 

Elizabeth 

No, I hope not, I hope not. 



As Elizabeth walks noiselessly 
away 



Turning 

Mrs. Watson goes out to the 
right 

After an astonished pause 



Seeing Elizabeth quiver 

No answer 

Silence 

Her arms about her 

Kneeling 



Raising Margaretta' s face 

with her right hand., while 

with the left she smooths back 

the hair 

Ralph appears at the French 

window 

Her eyes fixed on Ralph 



Getting up and dodging back 
as Ralph enters and takes both 
of Elizabeth^ s hands 



Facing her 



After a disconcerted instant^ 
embracing and embraced 
Her hand on Ralph^ s shoulders 



Kissing her 
To Elizabeth 



Forcing herself to chase her 
with hand-clappings 

Margaretta goes out right^ 
leaving the door ajar 

Elizabeth^ returning and pass- 
ing Ralph slowly^ sinks into 
Mrs. TVatson''s chair 



Ralph 

May I come in? 

Elizabeth 
May you? 

Margaretta 

" Sweet dreams, Margaretta " ? 

Elizabeth 

You '11 tell your mother he *s back, 

won't you, and then — to bed, dear ? 

Margaretta 

Yes, but I 'm to come for you at sunrise ? 

Elizabeth 
" Sure ! " 

Margaretta 
Good night. 

Dear old man, good night. 

Ralph 
Sleep tight. 

Margaretta 
One more ? 

Elizabeth 
Yes, and now- — 
Scoo-oo-oo-oo-oot ! 



28 



Ralph 

Elizabeth ! You have n't been doubting 

yourself? As her eyes seek his 

Of course not. You aren't so cow- 
ardly. And / never used to be a coward. 
I was n't even much afraid of not win- 
ning you — 

Elizabeth Archly 

Ralph! 

Ralph 

— But coming back, alone under the 
stars, I met the fear of losing you. And I 
found that only years of life with you 
could lift me high enough to face it. 

Elizabeth 

I 'm glad you think I help you. She looks away and her hand 

And you know I'm even rather glad moves over Mrs. Watson's 

that you were morbid ? / can 't always '^^^^^ '^y 

cage my black-winged thoughts Looking up. 
and free the nightingales. 

Ralph 

Something has been troubling you. 

Elizabeth 

Yes, I was afraid, I'm still afraid, that 

you're building on illusions. 

Ralph 
Nonsense ! 

29 



Elizabeth 

No, Ralph. You're even and wise and 
strong, dear, so you do n't see that I'm 
impulsive, freakish, weak. 

Ralph 

But Elizabeth — 

Elizabeth 

Another thing: I'm afraid that even 

you can't change me very fast. 

Ralph 
Jumping up^ and walking up Change you ! Change you ! Ton, Eliza- 
^"'^ ^^" beth ! I would n't have you different — 

Elizabeth 
fFith afiaih of gay triumph Come, do n't protest too much. It is n't 

"moderate." 

Ralph 

Great Heaven . . . ! 

Elizabeth 
Roguishly S-s-sh ! Do n't swear, dear. It is n't 
" conventional." 

Ralph 

And suppose it is n't. 

Mrs. Watson 
Outside Margaretta ! 

Ralph 

Elizabeth ! You look as if the uni- 
verse were coming to an end. 

30 



Elizabeth 

She is wise . . . terribly . . . 

Margaretta 

Mummy ! If you interrupt 'em, your 

blood be on your head! 

That's a kind, considerate Mummy. 

Good night. 

Elizabeth 
She 's gone ! 

Ralph 

I see it now. What you were saying 
about being freakish and weak, my 
mother did n't say to you, of course. 
But she did say it? 

Elizabeth 
Yes. 

Ralph 

Try as she will, dear, I 'm afraid she' 11 
never understand you. But when she's 
once accepted you — 

Elizabeth 

If she accepts me ! 

Ralph 

She will. And when she does, will 

you — 

Elizabeth 

Do all I can to understand her } and see 

things 

31 



Half to herself 

Outside 

A pause 

The door shuts 

In quiet delight 

Stalking to the d»or and back 
again 



After another turn 



Getti 



ng up 



IVitb a little shiver as she does? . . . for your sake? That is 
what you were going to say, isn't it? 
Yes, I will. But now, I must tell you 
why, in all these minutes that ought to 
have been radiant, I 've been so little 
. . . the girl you love. 

Ralph 

Moods can't c\\2.ngQ you ^ dear. 

Elizabeth 

Do you know what I really am ? I'm 
not " rooted," like you, ** in generations 
of strength." My weakness is rooted 
in weakness. My mother — 

Ralph 

I know, I know. 

Elizabeth 

No, not what I know; that her joy 
must once have been too passionately 
exquisite for this world, and her sorrow 
so terrible that sometimes, even in the 
later years, I 've seen her shaken to the 
depths with great gusts of it. 

Ralph 

That I didn't know; even now I do n't 

quite understand. 

Elizabeth 
Nor I. 
J silence But it shows me how deep my wildness 

32 



and my weakness lie. . . . Ralph, ought 
you, with all the great things that de- 
pend on you, ought you to hamper 
yourself with me ? 

Ralph 

I 'm nothing without you. 

Elizabeth With wistful gayety 

Nonsense, nonsense. 

Ralph 

No, dearest, sense. Since you 've lit 

up my world for me, problems that used 

to be dark and shapeless have glimmered 

into crystals. I begin to see almost a 

new universe. 

Elizabeth Laughing 

Because oi me^ Ralph? 

Ralph 
Because of you. 

Elizabeth 

Then you '11 take me, still ? 

Ralph 

l^ake you? 

Elizabeth 

Just as I am? Whatever I am? 

Ralph Kissing her 

Yes ! Yes ! 

Elizabeth 

You may have to do it pretty soon, then \ 

Z7> 



Ralph 
Have to ? 

Elizabeth 

I may make you . . . make ofF with me 

. . . to-morrow. 

Ralph 

Half delighted^half incredulous Elizabeth ! 

Elizabeth 

Yes. If your father 's going to analyze 
and dissect me, if he begins, even con- 
siderately, to sort and pigeon-hole my 
traits — 

Ralph 

That 's not his way. He 's whole- 
hearted, straight -forward, impulsive, 
with all his firmness ! 

Elizabeth 

But your mother 's been writing. 

Ralph 

Not to prejudice him ! 

Elizabeth 

But ifshe^^j-by mistake, if for any rea- 
son he's cold, you won 't wait, will you, 
to see my soul sliced and put on a slide 
and stared at through a microscope ? 

Ralph 

Do you realize what men would say 

if I " made off with you "? 

34 



Elizabeth 

I know, I know, just what they have 

said, that you 're so rich and I, so poor. 

I used to mind that. But now, I'm glad 

you can have the fun of giving me 

things. 

Ralph 

So am I, very. But that is n't it. The 
things they'd say now, dearest, would 
seem almost to lower our love. 

Elizabeth 

That can 't be lowered. 

Ralph 

Not for us — 

Elizabeth 

Hark ! He 's coming. 

of his would sound like 

to me if we couldn't . . .just ride away. 

It is n't that I mind the pain, Ralph — 

at least I think not — but the pettiness, 

the ugliness. 

Ralph 

Do n't think you must plead with me. 

If it is n't all gladness, if there 's a word 

of questioning — 

Elizabeth 

We'll ride off and away? with the 

breath of sunrise in our faces and the dew 

on the grass and the branches ? 



And that horn 
the last trump 



A coach horn is heard 



It sounds again, nearer 



Seeing her sensitiveness 



Ralph 

And the sea booming on the rocks. 

Elizabeth 

And then, after a day all joy in the 

mountains, when we 're married, you and 

I, shall we come back and confound 

them? 

Ralph 

Yes! 

Elizabeth 
He 's here ! 
Ralph 
That's his voice. 

Elizabeth 
Impulsively No, I do 71 1 want to See him yet. 
rurning toward the door to Good night ! Good-bye ! Say I went to 

bed exhausted, hours and hours and 
hours ago. But come and tell me what 
he says. And if he does n't just hug the 
idea of me, 
then at sunrise — ? ! 



Indistinct voices are heard out 
side to the right 



the left^ playfully 



Going out 



Ralph 

We'll have our gallop. 

Curtain 



36 



ACT II 



Mr. Watson s room. A window to the right; near it^ a closet door. To the left^ back., 
another door ; on the left., forward., a third. In the center of the room., a large plain 
table with a green-shaded student lamp., an inkstand., a pile of letters and telegrams., a 
few books., a photograph of Eli-zabeth. To the left of the table., a leather-covered arm- 
chair; to the right., a lighter chair of wood; against the wall., right., a third chair. In 
the whole gray room., no ornaments., only a portrait of Mrs. IVatson hanging to the left., 
and over the door at the back., two flags. 



Mrs. Watson 

Are you sure you won't have supper? 

Mr. Watson 

Quite, thank you. I stopped at the 

Commodore's, you see; a miraculous 

dinner, souffles, jellies, champagne. After 

that, anything else would be a sacrilege ! 

Yes . . . Yes . . . 

Where 's Ralph ? 

Mrs. Watson 

There 's another, John, in cipher. I 
know, because they telephoned it first, 
as usual. 

Mr. Watson 

After me again, those brokers ? 

"In view of rumors, mining stocks fall. 

Do I wish to sell out my interest?" 

39 



Entering., left front., and 
turning as Mr. Watson.^ in a 
light woolen traveling suit., 
follows her into the room 



Looking over the telegrams 
Putting them down 



Pointing to the table 



Opening the telegrams 
Translating by means of a 
code-book which he takes from 
his pocket 



Tossing aside telegram and book 



Smiling 
Ironically 

Grave 
A pause 



Laughing 



Winding his watch and laying 
it on the table 



Nonsense! . . . **They await my reply"? 
They can wait. — Where 's Ralph, 
Mabel ? 

Mrs. Watson 

I left him with this friend of Marga- 

retta's. 

Mr. Watson 

Margaretta's? And Margaretta? She's 

with them ? 

Mrs. Watson 

No, in bed. 

She left word, though, twice, that you 

were to kiss her in her sleep. Her soul, 

she "guessed," would **know it and 

hug you." 

Mr. Watson 

How like her; the "hug," I mean. The 

"soul" sounds rather . . . different. 

Mrs. Watson 

She has been changing. 

Mr. Watson 

Not losing her drollery? 

Mrs. Watson 

No. If anything, that 's grown on her. 

Mr. Watson 

Good! Good! But, Mabel, 
I 've been thinking about her a good 
deal in crossing the plains. 
40 



Mrs. Watson 

And what came of it? 

Mr. Watson 
Well, in the end . . . 
in the end it seemed to me that if you 
or I should die, Mabel, or if any great 
shock should come to her, she 'd grow- 
up in a twinkling. 

Mrs. Watson 
She is growing up. 

Mr. Watson 

You don't mean she's got sentimental? 

Mrs. Watson 

Far from it. But this extraordinary 
friend of hers seems to have opened her 
eyes almost startlingly on life. 

Mr. Watson 

Urn. 

I don't wonder. Even your rather 

guarded letters gave me an impression of 

great charm. 

Has Ralph been here all along? 

Mrs. Watson 

Yes, breaking promise after promise to 

pay visits, on the Shore and in the Adi- 

rondacks. 

Mr. Watson 
Will she take him? 

41 



Seating herself at the table 



He takes off his coat and waist- 
coat^ hangs them in the closet., 
puts on his smoking jacket and 
comes back 



Lighting a cigar 



A pause 



Smiling 



Mrs. Watson 
Without a smile From what Margaretta says, I 'm afraid 
she will, unless you interfere. 

Mr. Watson 

Why, you wrote she was delightful, 

almost a genius — 

Mrs. Watson 
Yes; but weak! 

Mr. Watson 

Does Ralph need a Hercules? 

Mrs. Watson 

— And they 're both so in the clouds! 

Mr. Watson 

Such a rare symptom! 

Mrs. Watson 

Don't be sarcastic, John ; I 'm troubled ^ 
really. 
He lays down his cigar My reasons sound paltry, I know, and 
yet . . . their love is such a tissue of 
dreams and folly and song that I can't 
imagine it surviving the strains of life. 

Mr. Watson 

Need there be strains? There's money 
enough. As for other things . . . 
she won't have to suffer as you had to 
suffer ... He won't have to suffer as I 
had to suffer in telling . . . you before 
we were married — 
42 



He falls silent^ a look of pain 
crossing his face. 



Mrs. Watson 
John! 

Mr. Watson 

As you wish, Mabel. 

You 're right. 

That 's past. And now, at this very 

moment, perhaps, Ralph and she are 

planning out their life. 

Would you have me thwart them.? 

Mrs. Watson 
Only for their sake. 

Mr. Watson 

For their sake? 

It turned out useless, you know, my 

taking this with me. There was n't a 

miner in Idaho that could n't have ** got 

the drop on me." Won't they be a good 

deal like that? 

Mrs. Watson 

You brought your men to their senses. 

Mr. Watson 

Mabel, in such a love as Ralph's must 

be, there 's something that I for one 

hate to interfere with. 

In spite of its folly, if there is folly in 

it, it may lift a man higher than he 'd 

climb without it. 

43 



Gently, as she leans across the 
table 

Taking her hand a moment 
Getting up 
A pause 



After a turn across the ri 



Taking a revolver from his 
hip-pocket and fingering it 
as he walks up and down 



A pause. He puts down the 
revolver 



Another pause 



Mrs. Watson 
Yes, John. 

Mr. Watson 

And still you 'd break this off? 

Mrs. Watson 
Puzxled Yes, almost; yes, I would. 

Mr. Watson 

You, who've always pleaded for his in- 
dependence, and held me back — held 
me back rightly — when I 've wished to 
oppose him ? 

Mrs. Watson 

Jlmost impatiently Ycs. 

Mr. Watson 

But why? Tell me. You can't wish me 

to follow with tig/it shut eyes. 

Mrs. Watson 

I 've said all I can say. 

Mr. Watson 

You mean they 're things you 've no 

right to say? 

Mrs. Watson 

No. 

Mr. Watson 

Well then? Can't you explain them? 

Mrs. Watson 

No, John. They 're simply . . too im- 
palpable. 
44 



Mr. Watson 

And you wish me to destroy what seems 
to Ralph the highest possibiHty in his 
life, because of impalpable nothings? 
It 's preposterous, Mabel. Think ! I 
don't even know the girl's name. 

Mrs. Watson 

You '11 know it soon enough with Mar- 
garetta's dinning in your ears of Eliza- 
beth this, Elizabeth that, Elizabeth the 
other — 

Mr, Watson 

Elizabeth ? A riame to suit even you, I 

should think. 

Who's //6/j-? 

Mrs. Watson 

That? Why, - Elizabeth." 

Mr. Watson 

A wonderful face, Mabel. 



Walking up and down 



As he turns away 



Suddenly stopping in front of 
Elizabeth^ s photograph 



Knocking outside 



Margaretta 

Can I come in? 

Home, Daddy ? 

Dear old Daddy! Darling Dad! 

Mr. Watson 

Why, Margaretta ! Howyou' ve changed ! 

Mrs. Watson 

You ought to be abed. 

45 



Entering^ left front^ with a 
rough bath-wrap around her 

Hugging him 



To Mrs. Watson 



To Mr. Watson 



Hugging him again 
Leaning back 



Taking up Elizabeth^ s picture 



Margaretta 

With that pesky telephone raising Cain 

in my very ears? 

That reminds me of your crazy cipher, 

Dad. ^'Pike's. Idaho, August 17, '99. 

Delayed in transmission. Columnar. 

Antelope. Cash. Cod. James Beard." 

What 's it mean? 

Mr. Watson 

How should I know? 

Margaretta 

Oh, you duck, you duck of a Dad ! 
But is n't it foolish ! ! " Columnar. An- 
telope. Cash. Cod. James Beard." And 
this — they just 'phoned it over — **Pon- 
der. Judex. S. & B." What do you 
s'pose it means? Eh, old man? "Ponder." 
Mr. Watson 
Just business, dear. 
Margaretta 

Oh, you 've found her, have n't you! I 
put her there for that. Is n't she beau- 
tiful? Just is n't she? 

Mr. Watson 

Haunted YeS . . . 

Mrs. Watson 

John, ought not Margaretta to write 
down these telegrams before she forgets 
them ? 

46 



Margaretta 

I shan't forget 'em. *' Columnar. An- 
telope. Cash. Cod. James Beard." 
"Ponder. Judex. S. & B." "Colum- 
nar. Antelope. Cash. Cod." "Ponder. 
Judex." Dad, what can such truck 
mean? 

Mr. Watson 

Look it up, and write it out for me. 

Elizabeth whaty Mabel? 

Margaretta 

Did n't Momps even tell you her name? 
Why, Mommy, you evil, evil-minded 
Mommy ! 

Mrs. Watson 

I can 't remember everything when I 

write, Margaretta. 

Margaretta 

Not even Elizabeth's name? 

"Columnar. Antelope. Cash . . ." 

Mr. Watson 
Her name, Mabel? 

Mrs. Watson 
Her name? Wood. 

Mr. Watson 
What? 

Mrs. Watson 

Wood, Elizabeth Wood. 

47 



Giving her the code-book 
While she sets to work near 
the lamp 

Looking up 



Suddenly bending over the hook 



Muttering 



As she turns over the leaves 



Turning over the leaves 



Margaretta 

"Rioting recommences"?! 

Mrs. Watson 

What 's that, Margaretta ? 

Mr. Watson 

Wood? Don't you mean ** Woods"? 

Mrs. Watson 

No, just the singular. — Margaretta . . . 

Margaretta 
"Wires cut"? 

Mr. Watson 

What . . . was her mother's name? 

Mrs. Watson 

You know about her mother? You 

always know about singers, don't you ! 

Margaretta 
"Mine's afire"?! 

Mrs. Watson 
Margaretta, what is it? 

Margaretta 
"Miners ..." 

Mr. Watson 

Mabel, tell me! Her mother'' s name?! 

Mrs. Watson 

Why, John, what's happened to you? 

Mr. Watson 
Nothing, I hope. But — 
48 



Margaretta 
" — Miners seize dynamite." 
Mrs. Watson 
Margaretta! Read it. 

Margaretta 

Let me finish first, Momps. 

Mr. Watson 

Tell me her mother's name. 

Mrs. Watson 

Why, John, are you insane?! With a 
fortune hanging in the balance, to insist 
on bagatelles? — Margaretta! 

Margaretta Stilt busily transcribing 

"Ponder." 

Mrs. Watson 
Margaretta ! 

Mr. Watson 

Mabel . . . 

Mrs. Watson Impatiently 

Her mother's name ? Yes, yes. Let me 

see. What was her mother's name? 

Clara? Clare? 

Mr. Watson 
Clare. 

Mrs. Watson 

Yes, that's it, I think, — Clare, Clare 

Wood. ^^ Margaretta 

Have n't you finished that yet, child? 

49 



Mr. Watson 
Clare V. 

Margaretta 

I'm afraid we 're dished, Daddy. 
Reading ** Pike's, Idaho, August 17, '99. De- 
layed in transmission. John Watson, 
Bar Harbor, Maine. Rioting recom- 
mences. Wires cut. Mines afire. Miners 
seize dynamite. James Beard." 

Mrs. Watson 

It can't be true, John. Tell me it is n't 

true! 

Margaretta 
As Mr. Watson lays Jozun Checf up. Daddy; the worst is yet to 

the photograph COme. 

Mrs. Watson 

John, think. Surely something can be 
done. Can't you sell, even at a loss, 
before this is known ? 

Margaretta 

Sc'//, Mommy? — and smash the little 
stockholders and wreck the whole prop- 
erty? 

Mrs. Watson 

Be still, Margaretta. You can 't under- 
stand these things. 

Margaretta 
But, Mommy — 

50 



Helplessly 



Mrs. Watson 
Be still. 

Margaretta 

Don't you want to hear t'other one? 
Listen, Dad. "New York, August 1 8th, 
7 P.M. John Watson, Esq., Bar Har- 
bor, Maine. On rumors of further riot- 
ing, stock has fallen to sixteen. Await 
advices. S. & B." 

Mrs. Watson 

John! Think, think for us. 

Mr. Watson 

Your pencil, Margaretta. ly'ritins, 

"Messrs. Stone & Blackwell, 6 Wall St., 

New York City. Hold at any cost. 

J. W." There, telephone that at once. 

Good night. 

Mrs. Watson 

For the children's sake . . . ! 

Margaretta 

Poor dear Daddy. Goodnight. Don't 

you care. Daddy. It '11 all come out in 

the wash. Kissing him 

Good night. 

Mr. Watson 
Quick! 

Margaretta Cheerily 

Good night. She goes out back 

51 



Mrs. Watson 

And you said a great shock would change 

her. 

Mr. Watson 

Mabel, was Clare Wood the whole 
^ name? 

Mrs. Watson 

Still harping on that? Does our loss 

mean nothing to you? 

Mr. Watson 

There are worse things than loss. I can 

retrieve that. 

Mrs. Watson 

Worse things? What worse things? 

Mr. Watson 

Don't keep me in suspense. Was there 

another name? 

Mrs. Watson 

Clare Wood ? — Let me see. — Yes, Clare 

,. r^ , • t , Wood-Mayano. " Mile. Clare Wood- 

Mr. fratson sinks into n J 

chair, his head between his Mayano. 

arms on the table John! — Look at me. 

Their eyes meet 

Mr. Watson 
After a long pause, standing God ! God ! They have n't deserved it. 

Even Clare, even I, never deserved such 
punishment. And did n't we suffer 
enough — too much?! With her ten- 

52 



derness and beauty — it had to be ! it had 
to be ! Yet . . the desolation . , . 

Mrs. Watson 
What is this? 

Mr. Watson 

And now my child . . . mine . . . 

Mrs. Watson 

Be calmer. Try to control yourself. 

Mr. Watson 

Ralph . . . loves her! A long pause. Singing is 

M\xr heard outside 

rs. Watson 

And I was talking of your ruin. 

Mr. Watson 

Is that Elizabeth .? 

Mrs. Watson 
Yes, John. 

Mr. Watson 

How like her . . . mother's voice. 

Mrs. Watson 
Don't speak of her! 

Mr. Watson In broken tones 

With her voice in my ears? No. You've 
held me still too long. Standing 

Silence can't strangle sins. Unless we 
acknowledge them, they live, they pur- 
sue, torture us: for all our repentance they 
punish us and our children. — Mabel, 

53 



Hr turns awav 



if you had n't forbidden me to tell you 
even Clare's name, you would have 
known that Elizabeth . . . 



// knock 



Knocking again 



Mrs. Watson 

I meant only the right. 

Mr. Watson 

We all of us meant the right. 

Mrs. Watson 
John, she 's knocking. Shall I send her 
J ■ L L- away? 

Again knocking 

Mr. Watson 
No. 

Mrs. Watson 
Shall I go, then.? 

Mr. Watson 

After a pause YeS. 



She goes out by the door, hack 
Slow repeated knocking. Mr. 
Watson goes unsteadily to 
left-front, and stands there 
with his hand against the 
door as if to hold it shut 



Mr. Watson 

Under his breath Elizabeth ! 

Elizabeth 
Outside, in bright tones y^^^ Watson, it 's I, Elizabeth Wood. 

May I come.? 

54 



Mr. Watson Under his breath 

No! No! 

Elizabeth 

I shall if you don't say no. 

Entering as he opens the door, 
and speaking furtively 

I thought, I thought Mrs. Watson would 
be here. But I 've introduced myself 
already, have n't I, through a two-inch 
plank?! Won't you shake hands with 
me? 

Mr. Watson Taking her hand 

I 'm glad, Elizabeth, that you 're here. 

Elizabeth 

Then you won't think me too wild — 
for coming, I mean ? Ralph was to tell 
all about me first; but when I saw him /;//,>/, ^ ^Ught gesture 
pacing up and down the garden, think- 
ing, thinking, thinking — how to put it, 
I suppose — I decided perhaps you 'd 

better Guilelessly looking up 

just see for yourself. Her hand on his shoulder 

Why, how worn you look ! It 's selfish 
of me, is n't it, to keep you talking now 
when you need to rest. 

Mr. Watson ^^"'^3' 

That is n't it. 

Elizabeth 

Has Mrs. Watson been frightening you, 

55 



then? Though she is so darUng, I know 
she can't quite approve of me. She 
thinks I 'm weak. And there she 's 
wise, bitterly. 
Looking up at him You must help me, you who 've always 
been so strong. 

Mr. Watson 

In patn -*- • 

Elizabeth 
Why, yes. 

Seeing his pain Mr. WatSOn, 

A pause if I 've hurt you, it 's unknowingly. 

Her hand on his arm YoU '11 bcHeve that, WOn't yOU ? 

Mr. Watson 

He moves away i eS . . . 

Elizabeth 

But I have hurt you.? 

Mr. Watson 
No; not you. 

Elizabeth 

And still you wish to be alone? 

Mr. Watson 
It 's better so. 

Elizabeth 
Giving him her hand Q^^^ night, Mr. Watson. 

Mr. Watson 

Elizabeth, first, may I have — a kiss? 

56 



Elizabeth Looking up for a kiss on the 

Why, yes ! yes ! ^\P^ , , , , ,, 

^r '' , I'l T-> 1 1 » As he takes her head between 

Your eyes now seem almost like Ralph s ,_, -^ ^^^^^ ^„^ ^ -^^^^ ^^^ ,„ 

for tenderness. the forehead 

Mr. Watson 

Yours take me back. ... A silence 



Ralph Entering, with decision 

Father ! Why, Elizabeth, ahead of me? 

Elizabeth 

Yes; and I think I 've won him. 

Ralph 

If not, it 's a miracle. ^o Mr. Watson 

You have fallen in love with her? at 

first sight? yourself? Candidly, have n't 

yQ^p I Grasping his hand 

Why, I forgot I had n't seen you ! How 
are you? Brown; but rather worn by 
the strike? Well, with rest and this 
happiness — ! 

Mr. Watson 
Happiness ? 

Ralph Overlooking his impression 

Is n't she already almost what you called 'f f^i'^'^ness 
my mother once? — you remember? — 
"Your lily from Paradise"? 

57 



Elizabeth 

I begin to think not, Ralph. 

Mr. Watson 
To Elizabcih You lire that and more to me. 
Steeling himself And yet . . . and so — 
Elizabeth 
"So"? 

Ralph 
Why, father! 

Mr. Watson 

— so I can't — I would if I had the 

strength — I can't talk with you now. 

Elizabeth 

Offering her hand Good night, Mr. Watson. 

Mr. Watson 
Taking her hand Try not to judge me harshly. 

Elizabeth 

I can't understand you. But I know you 

would n't give me pain unless . . . unless . . . 

Turning toward the door Good night. 

Mr. Watson 

Good night, Elizabeth. 

Elizabeth 

To Ralph, who follows her ^q, Ralph, Stay! 

She goes out, left-front 

Ralph 
Turning as the door shuts How Can you let worldliness weigh 

58 



against such gentleness ? How could you 
let her go ? ! 

Mr. Watson _ ^ After a pause 

I have been talking with your mother — 

Ralph 

My mother? 

Mr. Watson 
Yes. 

Ralph 

My decision *s made, 

Mr. Watson 

Very well, Ralph. But before you . . . 
carry it out, I must tell you certain things. 
First, my affairs just now are in a crit- 
ical state. Indicating the papers on the 

I *ve received telegrams this evening table 
which mean that we must live very care- 
fully for a while. The rioting has be- 
gun again; the mines are on fire. 

Ralph 

I 'm sorry, sir. 

Mr. Watson Wincing at the "sir** 

I might have sold out, Ralph; but the 

loss would have been ruinous. As it is, 

we shall recover in the end. He stops to study Ralph's face 

Ralph 

And meantime you think that I can*t 

support my wife? 

59 



Mr. Watson 

Not that you can't. But the scientific 

work you care for . . . 

Ralph 

Is unremunerative. Yes, I know. 

Mr. Watson 

Have you a right to sacrifice it? 

Ralph 
I think so. 

Mr. Watson 
After pacing across the room Very Well. There 's another thing which 
and back I hoped to put off. — Sit down, please. 

Ralph 

Taking out hts watch I — we both — need our night's sleep, I 
think. 

Mr. Watson 

Try not to be so hard. 

Ralph 

I ? To you ? ! 

Mr. Watson 

I know I seem hard. Ralph, I need to 

be near you. 

Ralph 

If only we could be friends again ! If 
you only would make it possible ! But 
I can't understand you. 
60 



Mr. Watson 

Sit down; listen. 

You shall understand me. 

Ralph 

Anything you can say will only separate 

us more. 

Mr. Watson 

Perhaps, and yet you must know. 
Ralph, when I first knew your mother 
— or thought that I knew her — I drifted 
into what seemed deep friendship with 
the wife of — well, no matter about his 
name. Her tenderness and mystery 
brought me joy that grew into passion. 
It seemed to lift me above the real world. 
But the storm came. It brought us . . . 
to the earth. 

Ralph 

You left her ? 

Mr. Watson 

I tried, with all my power, to make her 
let me claim her before the world. She 
had nothing but scorn — justly — for the 
"illusion" that had made me too weak 
to protect her against herself. 
I have n't seen her since. She hid her- 
self away. 

Ralph 

Ah, now I know! 

6i 



Seating himself also as Ralph 
obeys 



Controlling himself 



A pause during which Ralph 
glances toward the portrait of 
his mother, then back at Mr. 
Watson 



A pause 



Getting up suddenly 



Mr. fVatson stands to receive 
the blows 



Striding forward 



Mr. Watson 

Are you sure you understand ? 

Ralph 

I understand and despise you. 

Not for your sin — I could forgive you 

that — but for your trying to stifle love 

with tales of your ** illusion" — trying to 

turn me to some . . . richer woman, as 

you turned ... to my mother. 

Mr. Watson 
Ralph, listen — 

Ralph 
No. 

Love can't be turned; can't be smoth- 
ered. Its fire and light are so unquench- 
able, yet keen, that I can see all your 
pettiness as distinctly now as 
that — that — that! 

Mr. Watson 
It blinds you. 

Ralph 

It has opened my blind eyes. 

Mr. Watson 
But — 

Ralph 
Going to Mr. Watson's side j^^ j^ ^^^ ,^ ^e the icy communion that 

oj the table , i j r i /-f n • • -r 

1 see you plead tor ! Call it mystic ir you 
61 



Pushing pens 
across the table 



and 



pencils 



will, her love and mine ; but it 's rich 
with the blood of life. It must be ful- 
filled. 
Do you understand me now .? 

Mr. Watson 
Stop. 

Ralph 
Let me go! 

Mr. Watson 

Your love, Ralph, is impossible. 

Ralph 

I shall marry her — within twelve hours. 

Mr. Watson 
Ralph — 

Ralph 
Let me go! 

Mr. Watson 

Not till you understand — 

Ralph 
Let me go! 

Mr. Watson 

I am . . . her father. 

Ralph 

JZ<?r father? You? 

You, father? 

Father! 

63 



I HI II 111 g to go 

Seizing him by the shoulder 



Holding h im by both shoulders 



Shrinking back from him 
Suddenly 



Mr. Watson 

I never knew it till tonight. 

Ralph 
Unsuadily seating himself We thought we had scaled Heaven . . . 

Mr. Watson 

If only I could have known. . . . 

Ralph 

If it weren't for you — ! 

Mr. Watson 

Ralph, there is some comfort; vou need 

not sutter as I have suffered. 

Ralph 
Getting up You 've lived and had vour " pleasure '* — 

Mr. Watson 
Not my pleasure. 

Ralph 

Yes — and a little pain — and vears of 
happiness. 

Mr. Watson 

Don 't be . . . quite merciless! 

Ralph 

You 've li'ved — and vou ask for mercy .^ 
Did you show mercv when you left her 
mother's sin to kill her.? Did vou show 
mercv when vou gave life to Elizabeth 
. . . and me: By the justice of God — if 
there is one — vou desen-e no mercv. You 

64 



deserve all her mother's storms of pain; 
and the fire — forever — that hums in me 
now; and, for Elizabeth's sake . . . 

Mr. Watson 
Forgiveness ! 

Ralph 

Never! 



Thank God! 



Mrs. Watson 

Is it over? May I come, John? 

Ralph 

He 's fainted, mother. 

You don't need me? 

Mrs. Watson 

No. She 'II need you more, I think. 

Curtain 



Going 

Hearing Mr. Watson fall 
fortvard across the table, he 
turns back, strides to the table, 
and leaning over it, lifts his 
father s inert head, looks into 
his face, and after letting the 
head sink again, bends for- 
ward to listen for the sound 
of breathing. 

Catching sight of the pistol 
under his father s right hand, 
he takes it up and unloads it, 
then after listening to the 
breathing a moment more, 
strides to the door, back, and 
knocks 
Outside 



As she comes in 

Seeing Mr. JVatson she starts 

slightly 



After a glance toward his 
father, he goes out, left 



6s 



ACT III 



Elizabeths room, papered with hluc, ivhich is figured conventionally with slight 
lines of white; matted floor, ivhite woodiuork. Back, right and left, two large 
^Japanese photographs, colored, in white frames. In the center, back, wide folding 
doors. Toward the back, left, a door; further forward, a broad divan; another 
door left front. To the right, two windows curtained with white muslin. Near 
the center, a square white table with a vase of gentians, a few books and a blue 
vase lamp shaded by a Japanese paper globe. 

In front of the table, Elizabeth sits reading. She is dressed in a creamy dressing- 
wrapper of thin silk, belted in luith a white silk cord. Putting down her book, 
she takes her watch from the table, glances at it, puts it back, and tries in vain to 
go on with her reading. There is a knock at the door. 

Elizabeth Starting up 

Ralph ! 

MaRGARETTA Entering left, back 

"Ralph"? At this time of night? 
Shocking! 

Elizabeth 

You at this time of night ? Shocking, 

Margaretta, shocking, shocking! 

Margaretta 

I've a good reason . . . 

Elizabeth 

He 's coming to tell me what your 
"daddy" says. And, dear, if your "daddy" 

69 



doesn't just long for this daughter-in- 
law . . . 

Margaretta 
Well, dear, what? 

Elizabeth 
Nothing much. 

Margaretta 
But what? 

Elizabeth 

Oh, just that Ralph and I — 

Margaretta 

Well? Ralph and you? 

Elizabeth 

— at dawn — 

Margaretta 
Reproachfully ' Dawn, dearest? 

Elizabeth 

— are going to gallop away and . . . get 
married ! 

Margaretta 
Instead of walking with me ? 
Elizabeth nods Oh, you cussed, dearest darling ! 
After a long hug But, Elizabeth, I saw Dad when he got 
home. 

Elizabeth 
So did I. 

70 



Margaretta 

Really ? 

Elizabeth 

Really. 

Margaretta 

But he didn't tell you that we 're dished, 

did he? 

Elizabeth Surprised 

Why, no, dear. 

Margaretta 

Well, we are. Tin gone up the spout; 

Watsons dead broke! 

Elizabeth 

How? 

Margaretta 

"Columnar. Antelope. Cash. Cod." 
That 's how. No, I 'm not off my 
head. That 's cipher. I took it over 
the 'phone; and it means, " Rioting re- 
commences. Wires cut. Mine *s afire. 
Miners seize dynamite," — and the 
stock 's fallen to sixteen. 
Elizabeth 
Poor Mr. Watson . . . ! 

Margaretta Cheerily 

Oh, it does n't matter for him. He 's a 
corker from Corkerville, and he'll clam- 
ber up again before Mommy 's wiped her 
eyes! But^ow, you and Ralph — 

71 



Elizabeth 
Thoughtfully That 's why he was so grave. 

Margaretta 

What can you do ? That 's what I *ve 

been thinking of all these hours. 

Elizabeth 

It can't touch us, dear. 

Margaretta 

It can . . . put off your gallop. 

Elizabeth 
Qaiiy Ask Ralph about that. 

Margaretta 

I saw Ralph an hour ago. 

Elizabeth 
Startled Where?! 

Margaretta 

In the garden. I was leaning out the 
window, thinking ; and I saw him there 
walking — and his head bowed down, 
oh, so sadly. I guess he was scheming 
— scheming schemes to support you. 
He can't get the professorship now, you 
see, that he tossed away last spring. So 
he '11 have to drop science, and take to an- 
alyzing baking-powders and castoria — 

Elizabeth 
Margaretta ! 

72 



Margaretta 

— and phosphates and soothing- 
syrups — 

Elizabeth 
Margaretta ! ! 

Margaretta 
— and fertilizers! 

Elizabeth 
He shan't! 

Margaretta 

You 've got to Uve, dear. 

Elizabeth 

But / can support him. . . . 

Margaretta 
You ? ! 

Elizabeth 

Listen. — Isn't that he? 

Go, dear. 

Go, go, go ! 

Margaretta 

But you '11 walk with me at sunrise? 

That *s in half an hour, you know. 

Elizabeth 

Yes, I '11 walk with you at sunrise 

unless we 've galloped away ! 



As a door IS heard shutting 
outside 

Footsteps outside 
Pushing her along 



Going: 



In the doorway, left, front 

Margaretta goes out 

Listening to the footsteps, 

Elizabeth stands motionless 

whispering as they turn and 

recede 

As they come nearer 



n 



Ah? 

X As they grow joint Again ? 

„ ■ I , , , , Ralph ! ! Why, Ralph ! 

Hurrying back to knock on ^ J' r 

the folding door 
The folding doors, thrown 
open, show Ralph's laboratory 
with Bunsen burners, scales, 
test-tubes, etc., on shelves and 
benches, which flank an aisle 
leading to a large French win- 
dow. Ralph stands facing 
Elizabeth on the threshold Pat uti 

ff^ith attempted coolness I hoped . . . perhaps you were dozing. 

Elizabeth 

Dozing ? — before I 'd seen you ? Hardly, 
dear. But, Ralph, what 's kept you ? 
Thinking of ways to propitiate him 
when we get back ? For he /jas forced 
us to have our ride! I can see that, yes, 
clearly, clearly, in this awful gravity of 
yours. Do you know, dearest, it makes 
you look like h'mF 

Ralph 

Elizabeth, we can't "have our ride.'* 

Elizabeth 

Can 't we? Not really? I 'm sorry for 

that. It would have made the day so 

blessed. 
Going toward the windows^ Think : — dawn with the air shot 
"^^^ through and through with sunlight, and 

74 



the waves all fire, and little flames leap- 
ing along their ripples as we rode on to 
the sand; then the blast in our faces, 
and the spray . . . 

Oh Ralph, Ralph, the grandeur of that *s 
too full for us to lose. Don 't you think 
we might have it, even if your father 
does hug the thought of me ! 

Ralph 

If it could give you happiness . . . 

Elizabeth 

I know, I know; if he agrees, the ad- 
venture's all gone from it ! Well, there 's 
something sweet, after all, in sunny fields 
of consent. They 're flat, of course. 
But ... he did covnt. round, chivalrously? 

Ralph 

Dearest, he could n't change. 

Elizabeth 

Could n't? 

Oh, I 'm not so sure of that. In fact, I 

think he could. 

Ralph 

But you don't understand . . . 

Elizabeth 

Yes, Margaretta 's told me. 

Ralph 
Margaretta ? 

75 



Turning to Ralph 



Coming forward to her 



After an instant's thought 



Elizabeth 

Did n't you hear her just as you came 
into the laboratory ? No ? Well, she 
was here, and she told me. 

Ralph 
Incredulous Margaretta doesn't know. 

Elizabeth 

Yes, she does ; she saw him ; he told her. 

Ralph 

And you can still smile? 

Elizabeth 

Why, yes! Would you have me cry? 
Mere millions don't matter to you and 
me. Don' I worry ! Now people can 't 
say such critical things of me. And it 's 
a reason for my appearing at once. And 
if I succeed — and I shall — why, you 
needn't. . .wallow in castoria and baking- 
powder and soothing-syrup and things, 
as that wretched Margaretta 's been pro- 
posing. I shall be able to support us in 
luxury — unless there are children . . . 

Ralph 
Elizabeth ! 

Elizabeth 
Simply Don't we hope for them, dearest? And 
after all, if I 'm really a *' genius," one 

76 



season of starring will support us for 
years midyears. 

Ralph 

If supporting us were all . . . 

Elizabeth 

What else could there be? 

Ralph 

There is something else ; something that 
Margaetta hasn't told you: something 
so terrible that I scarcely dare tell you. 

Elizabeth 

Tou scarcely dare? 

Ralph 

Because it 's . . . unspeakable. 

He falls helplessly silent 

Elizabeth 

You mean ... Her hand on his shoulder, 

that you were tempted — that I must gently 
forgive you for thoughts of deserting 
me? 

Ralph 

I was n't — thank God — so cowardly as 

that! I 've been hunting all these hours 

for some way to tell you gently . . . Her hand drops 

what came so horribly to me. I thought 

I had found it. But life flared up again 

and dazed me and shook me so, when I 

saw you . . . 

77 



Elizabeth 
Well? 
A silence What is it ? Tell me. 

Ralph 
Elizabeth . . . 

Elizabeth 
I must know. 

Ralph 
His voice very low While we live, what we hoped for . . . 
cannot be. 

Elizabeth 
Cannot ? 

Ralph 
Cannot. 

Elizabeth 

But why ? 
He is silent Ralph, it isn't true. You're not this 
sycophant! Ton couldn't fall so from 
the sky to mere earth. Why, the very 
stars would laugh . . . through their 
tears . . . 

Seating herself on the arm And yet oh, it is ! 

of her chair 

Ralph 
Dearest — 

Elizabeth 
Don't speak. 

78 



Ralph 
Elizabeth. 

Elizabeth 
Be still. 

Ralph 

Things are tragic enough as they are. 

Don't make them more tragic with 

misunderstanding. 

Elizabeth 

I understand. 

No, don't protest. It 's clear enough. 

Perhaps you thought . . . you loved me; 

but wiser heads have shown you that . . . 

I 'm light, and weak and unstable. And 

you think it the part of prudence — 

Ralph 

No, nothing that you think ! Nothing ! 
Elizabeth ! 
Elizabeth — 

Elizabeth 

Doji't break into my memory. That 's 
all I have now, the memory ... of a 
dream. But oh, why couldn't you have 
been even a little what I thought you? 
Why not have made that beauty just a 
little yours? Even now, if you only 
could turn . . . But you prefer the life 
that you've chosen — weighing your 

79 



Softly 



After a short wait 



Getting up 



She turns away 

Without noticing him, she 

walks toward the windows, 

right 

Stilly 



He begins feeling in his 
waistcoat pocket 



Suddenly taking out and hold- 
ing before her a small bottle 

She takes it 



Reading the label 

Wearily setting down the bot- 
tle on the table 



He goes toward the door, back 
left. She sinks into a chair, 
her eyes fixed on him 

Turning 



atoms, theorizing, experimenting, con- 
firming . . . alone. 

Ralph 

Elizabeth, for my sake, for your sake, 
because I need you helplessly, let me 
tell you, if only I can . . . 

Elizabeth 

Oh, your care for appearances ! the cal- 
culations that kept you tramping, tramp- 
ing there, devising "explanations" — 
it 's worse than mere infamy. I could 
admire that. But this . . . 

Ralph 

Elizabeth, look. 

Look, I say. 

That was what kept me, tempting and 

tempting me, till thought for you gave 

me strength to conquer it. 

Elizabeth 

"Tempting" you? 

No, you wouldn't have dared to die. — 

Don't try to explain. Go! Do you 

understand? Go, unless you wish me to 

despise you even more ! 

Ralph! 

Ralph 

If I go, we shan't meet again; and you 
80 



will never understand. It 's better so, 
perhaps . . . 

Elizabeth 
Ralph. 

Ralph 

Elizabeth . . . 

it might be easier for you to think I had 

never been the man you cared for. And 

so, if I could bear it, I should leave you; 

we shouldn't meet again. 

Elizabeth 
Is n't it best so? 

Ralph 

No ! What we knew, as we sat beside 
those waves under the stars, is too true 
for that. And there 's still too much 
tragic wonder in the years that we must 
live. Trust me . . . 

Elizabeth 

Tou^ 

Ralph 

/ have not sinned. I 've blundered and 
confused you; but I haven't sinned. 
I 'm stronger, truer than I ever was. 
Our suffering comes from others' guilt. 
Though our happiness is dead, 
Elizabeth, our love must live, like the 
sun's fire, 

8i 



tie opens the door, 
hands groiu rigid 
Almost inaudibly 



He 



Shutting the door ajid turning 
Coming forzuard 



With sorrotvful tenderness 



Taking her hand 



Kneeling 

His face between her hands 



Lifting his head 
Standing 

Her arm about him, her head 
against his shoulder, she 
walks with him towards the 
laboratory 



Her voice fading in the dis- 
tance 

A long pause, during ^vhich, 
while he tells her, they are 
seen startlingly motionless^ 
against the French u'lndoWy 
through luhich the dawn ap- 
pears over a near mountain 

Coming back with him 



and the hush . . of night . . . 

Elizabeth 

Ralph! 

Your face is gray. Your hands burn. 

Ralph, Ralph, your pah// 

Oh, forgive me, forgive me for doubting 

you. Trust me. Let me share what's 

hurting you. 

Ralph 

It 's too . . . horrible. 

Elizabeth 
Let me bear it. 



Eliza RFvrH 

Our happiness on earth . . . How our 
souls sang under the stars. They 're 
faded now, and that . . . is dead ? 

Ralph 

Don't think of our joy. We can 't 

bear to, yet. 

Elizabeth 

Ralph, it isn't dead; it's alive still in 
my finding you again, all, all, more than 
I could dream you. That joy in your 
82 



dear tenderness, oh, let me feel the thrill 

of it, 

so . . . so . . . 

Ralph 
Elizabeth . . . ! 

Elizabeth 

Must you wake me? 

Ralph 

This brings us too near to the gulf we 've 

escaped from. It is n't safe ! 

Elizabeth 

Not while we live. 

Ralph 

And we must live. We must not let 
ourselves be crushed. We must turn, 
light, hew out the days . . . 

Elizabeth 

Ralph, does the life that holds us sepa- 
rate mean much to you now.? 

Ralph 

And yet we must serve it — 

must put all we 've lost tensely into the ^^^y 

effort. 

Elizabeth 
Must we.? 

Ralph 

You will? for our love's sake, for my 

sake ? 

83 



As they seat themselves on the 
divan, she draws him to her 
Their eyes meet; their lips meet 

A long silence. He starts up 



Looking up gently 



Knocking outside the labora- 



Knocking 
Outside the laboratory 

Dazed 



Painfully 



With the saddest smile of 
consent 



He strides off through the lab- 
oratory. A door IS heard to 
open and shut. A long silence 

Whispering 

She walks back and forth, 
looking toward the laboratory 
Passing the table she sees the 
bottle, hesitates, picks it up, 
looks at It, lays it down 



Elizabeth 
I'll try, Ralph 

Mrs. Watson 

May I come? — I, your mother? 

Ralph 

Shall I tell her to come? 

Elizabeth 
Your mother . . . 

Mrs. Watson 
Shall I come? 

Elizabeth 
No . . . 

Ralph 

Shall I go to her? 

Elizabeth 

But don't stay long from me. 

Ralph 

I'll come back . . . 



Elizabeth 

Effort . . to serve the life that separates 

us? Effort? alone? 

Must I? Can I? 



Ralph! 



84 



I can't ! 



Ralph 

Elizabeth ! He wants to come to you. 

I told my mother to send him. 

Was I right? No? Shall I call her 

back ? 

Elizabeth 
No, Ralph . . . 

Ralph 

How pale you are! I oughtn't to have 

left you. You've been suffering. 

Elizabeth 

Yes. I was afraid to face . . . what you 

will conquer . . . alone. 

Ralph 
Not alone. 

Elizabeth 

Yes, you'll live. Forgive me. I . . . 

wasn't strong enough. 

8s 



She picks it up again and 
seating herself on the divan, 
sits long in thought 
She uncorks the bottle, lifts it 
to her lips, hesitates, drinks 
Sitting with her thumb over 
the mouth of it, she waits; 
makes a movement as if to 
drink more; then with short 
little indrawn breaths, falls 
along the divan. After a 
long silence the door is heard 
opening outside the laboratory 



Standing against the light of 
sunrise in the doorway 



Faintly 
Coming nearer 

In pain 



Catching sight of the bottle 
Reaching out for it 
She bows her head 



Faintly 
Almost inaudibly 



Sobbing 



Whispering 
Taking her hand he trembles; 
suddenly noticing her other 
hand, he takes the bottle; bends 
fonvard, kissing her; then 
standing, looks at the bottle; 
lets the hand in zuhich he 
holds itsink;raises it almost to 
hislips;dashes itto the ground 

On his knees beside the divan 



Ralph 

You haven't . . . 
Elizabeth! No! 

I '11 get help for you. Keep your cour- 
age up — just a moment! 
Elizabeth 

Don't leave me — not ?iow. 
Ralph 
I must. 
Elizabeth 

It's useless. I can't be , . . saved. 
Your hand. Even now you're veiled 
from me. Nearer. 
Ralph 
Elizabeth ! 
Elizabeth 

Tou must be strong, dear. Don't be 
troubled. Nearer. So. Still nearer. Kiss 
me. — Oh, must I go . . . alone? 
Ralph 
Elizabeth, you haven't left me? 



No! ! 

If only I might go with you. 
86 



With a shudder 
As Ralph rises 



MaRGARETTA 0«f.z^., after partly singing 

Elizabeth ! Elizabeth's song 

Have you forgotten our walk? Eliza- Knocking outside, right 

beth r Commg m 

The sun's up; the sky's golden, the 
waves are all flame ! You have n't gone 

on your gallop?! Her hands on the head of 

Asleep ? *^' '^^'^^^ 

Elizabeth . . . 
Ralph, she is n't . . . ? 

Ralph 

Gone, Margaretta. 

MaRGARETTA Staggering a little as she sinks 

Gone ? "" ^''^ knees 

Mr. Watson Outside the laboratory 

May I come, Elizabeth? Coming through the labora- 

Can you bear seeing me? '°'"3' supported by his wife 

Mrs. Watson To her husband 

Are you sure th^t you can bear it? 

Ralph Suddenly hearing, and strid- 

Father ! Go back ! Wait ! Not now ! '"^ ^^^^'"'^ '^''" 

Mr. Watson 

Does she condemn me? 

Ralph 

She is at peace . . . 

Mr. Watson 

You don't mean what your face says! 

87 



Rising and meeting him 



Leading her aside 



He lets his head jail on the 
edge of the divan. A pause, 
during which Margaretta 
stands in pain, her hands 
vaguely lifted over her father s 
head. He takes Elizabeth's 
hand and hisses it 



Not that?! Ralph ! Can 't you speak? 
Let me pass, Ralph ; let me see her. 

Margaretta 

Don't look so, Father. See, her face 

smiles. 

Mr. Watson 

Though she died for my sin? 

Mrs. Watson 

For Margaretta's sake! John . . .! 

Ralph 

Let him speak, Mother. 

Mr. Watson 
Kneeling Elizabeth, forgive me ! Forgive me! I 
never knew. Elizabeth ! — The cruelty, 
the cruelty . . . when life seemed so 
sweet to her. 



Elizabeth . . . my child . . . 

Margaretta 
Father . . . 

Mr. Watson 
To Elizabeth Sweet little one . . . 

Margaretta 
Father ! 
88 



L.o^'C. 



Mr. Watson 
Must we still live ? 

Margaretta 

Yes, for her sake, we that are left. 



Ralph 

Yes, we must live 



we that are left. 



Bending down and lifting 
him to his feet 
She leads him out through 
the laboratory. Ralph and 
Mrs. Watson silently watch 
them pass. Then, while Mrs. 
Watson goes to the divan and 
kneels, Ralph sinks down 
in Elizabeth' s chair 

In hoarse, dead tones 



Curtain 



89 



OF THIS EDITION OF "THE FATHER;' BY HENRY 

COPLEY GREENE, TWO HUNDRED AND 

FIFTY COPIES HAVE BEEN PRINTED 

AT THE MONADNOCK PRESS, 

NELSON, NEW HAMPSHIRE 

OCTOBER, 1904. 




f^^J -6 1904 



LIBRARY OF CONGRESS 

llllllllllllillllllllll 

015 937 154 2 



